Album review

Amadou & Mariam

Sunday in Bamako

Paris 

12/08/2005 - 

Malian duo Amadou & Mariam are currently causing a stir with Dimanche à Bamako, their new album produced by Manu Chao. The album, which taps into the same musical vein as the duo's previous work, hits a little harder in terms of lyrics, dealing with political and economic issues as well as personal ones. Fusing references to the traditional music of imperial Mali with a few well-placed loops and a hint of pop, Amadou & Mariam could well become the African protest singers of our times.

Dimanche à Bamako opens with the voice of Mamadou, a little boy the duo met on the streets of Mali, announcing "Mariam et Amadou, bonjour... Comment allez-vous?" ("Hello, Mariam and Amadou… How are you?") This serves as a sweet and curiously touching introduction to the first song, M Bife, on which Mariam declares her love for her husband and musical partner, "Chéri, je t'aime." Accompanied by simple guitar chords and subtle backing vocals, Mariam launches into a soft, languorous ballad before the rhythm is upped a tempo and carried away on the balafon. Mamadou's introduction and the upbeat notes of M Bife set the tone for the rest of the album, a musical gem infused with catchy beats and positive vibes guaranteed to bring an instant splash of sunshine to a grey winter's day in Paris! As Amadou points out, "Mali's very different from Paris in that for us Sunday is a day for festivities." And Mariam echoes the sentiment on Fête au village, singing "Je serais la plus belle, la plus jolie pour toi mon chéri, pour la fête du village." ("I'll be the most beautiful, the prettiest girl there for you, my love, at the village fête!")

But Dimanche à Bamako is not all about living it up at local festivities. The album marks a real break from the duo's previous crooning and it will doubtless surprise fans who swooned to the romantic chorus of their hit Je pense à toi mon amour (which catapulted the blind couple from Mali onto the European music scene in 1998). This was just before the husband-and-wife team established themselves as one of the hottest new acts of the year at the 'Transmusicales festival' and then went on to release their debut album, Sou Ni Tile, followed two years later by Tje Ni Mousso. Critics may have hailed the duo as an exciting new discovery, but the truth is Amadou & Mariam have served their time on the music scene.

The duo started out crooning Je pense à toi mon amour a good ten years ago, recounting their extraordinary destiny somewhere between the lines. Amadou and Mariam have formed an indissociable duo both off stage and on since 1976, the year they met at Mali's Institute for The Young Blind. Amadou Bagayoko, a talented guitarist who honed his eclectic style in the melting-pot of the 70s and Mariam Doumbia, a velvet-toned singer who grew up immersed in the traditional music of Mali, proved to be the perfect match. And music proved to be the perfect guide, taking the Malian couple to the four corners of the world.

Since, then, however, times have changed (to paraphrase a song from the duo's last album, Wati). Amadou & Mariam's music has become sharper and more incisive, while retaining a trace of the touching naivety which endeared them to fans in the first place. Things began to take a decidedly funkier turn in 2002 with the infectious riffs of Chauffeurs, the track which blew Manu Chao away when he first heard the song on his car radio one night. The ex-Mano Negra frontman, now famous as a solo artist in his own right, knew there and then that he had to work with the duo. And Chao not only ended up co-producing Amadou & Mariam's new album, he even provides guest vocals on several tracks. Knowing Chao's outspoken political views and his anti-globalisation stance, it is not hard to imagine that he may have had some influence on the stronger content of the duo's lyrics this time round. Could it have been Chao who suggested following the soft, opening ballad on Dimanche à Bamako with Coulibali, a track whose intense, driving beats recall the frenzied atmosphere of Chauffeurs and the glory days of the Malian music scene in the 70s? The album, conceived as a sort of voyage (in all senses of the word), is cut through with recordings of day-to-day street sounds picked up in Mali and coloured by a greater political implication in its lyrics. Amadou & Mariam have certainly touched on the "troubled state" of the world before, but their songs have never addressed issues this directly before. On Dimanche à Bamako, Amadou & Mariam rail against "economic panic" and "trafficking in Africa and America" and call for "solidarity between Ivorian Malians, Mauritanians, Senegalese, Guineans, Ghanaians, French Malians and the people of Burkina Faso." "Let's join hands and share the same vision!" they urge. The duo's lyrics take on an even more explicit tone on Politic Amagni, where their voices slide between Bambara, English and French, insisting, "We don't want demagogy. We don't want corruption. We don't want extortion!" We knew Amadou & Mariam had a political and social conscience, but this time round their message is not one of gentle complaint, but genuinely outspoken protest. And it is a message that comes across all the better carried by the catchy traditional and pop-influenced melodies on Dimanche à Bamako. After songs calling for social and political reforms, the album ends on a blue note with the lilting lullaby M'Bife blues. Backed by Manu Chao, singing in Bambara, Mariam proclaims "Chéri, je t'aime jusqu'à la mort!" ("My darling, I'll love you till the day I die"), thus echoing her sentiments on the opening track M Bife and bringing Dimanche à Bamako full circle. Perfectly conceived, well produced and full of musical surprises, this is an album that is destined to spread the Amadou & Mariam charm to a wider audience without disappointing diehard fans who have followed the duo from the beginning. In short, a resounding success!

Amadou & Mariam Dimanche à Bamako (Corrida) 2004

Jacques  Denis

Translation : Julie  Street